


Heaven

by PrincessaBitchessa



Series: Princessa's Bitchin' Prompts 2017 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Siblings, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Twins, M/M, a little ooc, characters listed in order of appearance, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:39:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessaBitchessa/pseuds/PrincessaBitchessa
Summary: Based off ofthis post.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marked_Angel_194](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marked_Angel_194/gifts).



> Sorry this wasn't uploaded when I said I was going to. I saved it as a draft instead of posting it.

`The Adios Motherfucker was hitting the spot. It was making him one step closer to getting blackout drunk, just like he wanted. God, he was such a loser.

 

No one could hang out with them tonight because they still had jobs to go to in the morning, unlike him now unemployed-self due to his dickish boss-slash-ex-boyfriend firing him because Stiles felt as though they didn’t have a “spark”.

 

At least he still had fucking YouTube.

 

Shaking his head, Stiles took another swig of his drink while thinking that he should’ve waited until he got his damn promotion before breaking up with the dickwad. But alas, he did not.

 

The bar was full now, but it wasn’t when he arrived. At that time, there were people who wanted to be young and party but still had the wife and kids at home and a nine-to-five job to wake up to so that their mortgage on the house would be paid in thirty years. Now, there were bodies upon bodies covered in sweat and sexual tension filled the air. Everyone was a college kid or was in their early twenties with washboard abs and a perfect tan.

 

With the exception of Stiles, of course. He still had his usual pale skin and lanky body, despite living in LA since his freshman year of college. He was pathetic.

 

Leaving some money on the counter with a generous tip, Stiles got up and made his way through the crowd to get to the exit. He was feeling a light buzz and had already ordered an Uber, so he’d be home soon.

 

As soon as he was out of the horny and sweaty crowd, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

 

**From: Scotty Boy**

**To: Batman**

**_Bro, fuck wrk. Cmg ovr now w/ the rst. Pause, rght?_ **

 

Laughing at Scott’s horrible texting grammar, Stiles texted back with a small smile on his face.

 

**From: Batman**

**To: Scotty Boy**

**_Don’t bother. I’m leaving the bar now to fall in my bed._ **

 

Stiles didn’t even have a chance to pocket his phone before another vibration came through.

 

**From: Red Stilettos**

**To: Batman**

**_Stiles, shut the fuck up. We are already outside the damn club. Go get us the VIP room now._ **

 

Sighing dramatically in love and fond exasperation for his friends, he made his way to the bartender and told him that Lydia Martin wanted the VIP room, then watched as the poor guy scrambled to do so. Everyone knew who Lydia Martin was and no one wanted to face her wrath.

 

While laughing at the blubbering bartender, Stiles caught sight of his friends coming through the door like they owned the place, all wearing something plaid. Damn, he loved them. So smiling while he flagged them down, he sat down and thought of a way to confess his undying love to them.

 

Kira interrupted his train of thought by jumping onto his lap and squeezing the breath out him while being her usual bubbly self. “MY FOX!!!” she yelled. The girl loves the fact that they’re both fox lovers. “Oh, how I have missed you,” she says dramatically while draping herself over him. "Do you not love me anymore?"

 

Pushing her out of the way with a roll of her eyes and a smirk on her lips, Erica showed her love by leaping into his lap. “Hey Batman,” she purred. “Long time, no see.” She was faux-pouting at the last thing she said, but before he could even point out the fact that them not seeing each other fell on _her_ , Lydia called his name.

 

“Stiles. Where the hell are our drinks?” That voice had made greater men than himself have their balls retreat into their bodies, but before he could even get scared, the bartender returned with them, giving him a chance to gather himself.

 

That stolen moment allowed him to remember that Lydia loved him too much to cause him bodily harm, which made him smirk. Scoffing, he said “Right there. And don’t use that tone with me, Lyds. I still have copies of your second-grade photo that _could_ possibly be lost and _just maybe_ fall into the hands of some very nosy and desperate photographers.” He would never do such a thing, no matter what Lydia has done, but he low-key liked seeing her get a look of such intense fear in her eyes every time that picture’s existence is brought up. Just the mention of it would keep her from becoming a buzzkill tonight, though.

 

“Just loosen up.”

 

He put a drink to her lips.

 

“Feel the vodka in your veins.”

 

She swallowed it.

 

“And love every damn minute of it.”

 

As soon as he finally coaxed a smile out of her, his sister appeared in his peripheral view. “Do I know you?”

 

Allison gave him a grin as she put her hands on her hips. “My oh my. You look as familiar as my own face, as you seem to have it.”

 

Swallowing back a laugh, but allowing a smile so bright that it could light up the world to go on his face, he cried. “Are you my twin?”

 

“Yes, that’s it!” she screamed, her eyes wide, faking shock. “You _must_ be my other half! The honey to my bun.” She said as she inched closer.

 

“The shooting to my star,” he cried back.

 

“The Panic! to my Disco.”

 

“The Tyler to my Josh.”

 

“The Stiles to my Allison!”

 

“The Allison to my Stiles!”

 

In unison, they cried “My glorious twin!” as they leaped into a hug.

 

The two of them dissolved into raucous laughter, never getting tired of this game that they had played since they could talk. The others tried to discreetly videotape the scene, most likely for blackmail material in the future, but screw them. He loved his twin and she loved him and they both were kickass.

 

Releasing his hold on her, Stiles took two shots back to back before he questioned them. “So… what made you guys change your mind?” Realizing how that may have come off as he quickly attempted to fix what he said. “Not that I’m not glad that you guys are here — I am — but don’t you guys have work in the morning?”

 

Before he could continue to humiliate himself with words, Boyd (he didn’t even notice him. Who else is here?) told him that there was a gas leak at work and that they had a few days off while it was being fixed, expressionless and stoically.

 

At this tidbit of information, Stiles gave everyone a downright devious smirk that made everyone recoil away from him, barring Allison, who wore the same look on her face.

  
“Who wants to get plastered?”


End file.
